Rainfall
by GooeyGummiBears
Summary: America was just one of those people. He spent his whole life - and countless hours of heartache - looking for his perfect match. But he never seemed to noticed the boy who cared most for him. Did it really matter that they were brothers?
1. Chapter 1

The rain poured down heavily, thundering against the bright red umbrella like hail and dripping down the edges in smooth, rhythmic trails. The night was cold and the city was almost pitch black. A few lights shone though some of the windows in the distance, but so few and far apart that they looked like mere fireflies against the silhouetted buildings. The crystalline droplets that fell before Matthew William's eyes seemed illuminated by the dim stars and bright moon that loomed overhead. As he sighed, a thin cloud emerged from between his lips, circulating the air around him for only a moment before dissipating.

His eyes were first caught by the neon bus sign before he noticed the wooden park bench beside it. A smile threatened at the corners of his mouth, but the worry in the pit of his stomach kept it at bay. He quickened his pace unconsciously, his heart starting to lag as he noticed the small figure hunched over; shoulders drawn in close and lowered head supported by both hands. As Matthew neared, he realized those broad shoulders were shaking slightly – whether from the cold or something else, he could only hope.

_Please tell me he's ok,_ Matthew thought, his uneven breaths visible against the dark night. He was steps away, but the boy didn't look up –didn't even acknowledge any presence. His face was masked by his long, blonde hair. Hair that was streaked brown from the rain and sopping wet. Matthew's heart went out to him. He knew exactly what had happened. Every time, his brother would come to this bench and just sit. For hours or for minutes, Matthew was never sure. What he did know was that his older brother would sit there until someone brought him home.

Even though his heart felt heavy and cold as stone, Matthew forced a smile onto his face and knelt beside the bench. Ice water quickly soaked his knee as it made contact with the flooded ground, but he ignored it for the time being. Slowly, he removed his umbrella from over his own head and placed it over the blonde's.

There was a silence and a small sniffle before the boy's hands began to pull away from his face, allowing him to look up.

"Canada?" he whispered the familiar nickname as his eyes met similar, electric blue ones. His face was red and his eyes ringed with dark circles. There were streaks of dried tears running down his cheeks, but Matthew played it off as if it was only rain.

"Yes, Amy?" he replied with a smile, the term being short for 'America'.

The blonde ran his sleeve against his runny nose and looked up at the umbrella. "You'll get wet, Canada," he said, his voice higher than usual and a bit nasally.

The younger brother chuckled softly in response and replied cheerily, "And I'd rather be wet than see you frozen to death and soaked."

The other managed a small smile as he watched his brother's eyes twinkle just a bit. He suddenly didn't feel so bad anymore.

….

"_I've got it! I've got it!" cried America, bursting into laughter as he ran through Canada's bedroom door. The younger boy looked up from his book in surprise, pushing his glasses up his nose as he watched his sibling. "I can't believe I got the job!" he cried, enthusiastic as ever. He sighed deeply in satisfaction as he turned his back to Canada's blue bed and plopped down onto it, hands resting behind his head. The contact and ripple effect on the mattress made Matthew's book jump from his lap and land a foot away, losing whatever page he had been on. He sighed inwardly and scooped the thing up, placing it on his night stand._ Eh, it wasn't that interesting anyways, _he thought, shrugging it off._

"_Really?" he replied, sharing his sibling's excitement."When do you start?"_

"_Monday," America replied with a bright smile, as he rolled on his side to face his brother. "Why? Are you trying to get rid of me?"_

"_No! Of course not!" Canada replied, waving his hands before his face nervously._

_The other brother sighed once again, "I wouldn't even care if you were! I'm so happy I could kiss you!"_

_At that, Matthew's heart left into his throat, he would've spit out his drink had he been drinking any. He was about to protest – with a lot of stammering and stuttering – but his thoughts and words were cut short as he head was pulled down._

_It was a short kiss. It lasted maybe two or three seconds, yet it seemed like an eternity to the boy with sandy blonde hair. It was his first kiss ever – not that America knew that – and it was so simple and sweet. There was just the faintest sensation of America sucking on his lower lip before pulling away abruptly. Once it was over, it never seemed to have ended. There was still the ghost of the pressure and angel like softness as America flung himself up and strutted out of the room happily._

_Canada was left behind, a bewildered look on his face as he brought his fingers up to gently graze his lip. He almost expected those sweet lips to still be there as he touched them. But, realizing they weren't, he became terribly aware of what had just happened._

_Heat surged through his cheeks like a forest fire and he stared, dumbfounded, out his door._

Canada woke with a start, sitting up in bed with heat still burning in his cheeks. Taking a deep breathe, he laid back down slowly, biting his lower lip nervously. Dread washed over him in an instant and he curled up on his side for warmth and comfort. _How many times will this happen? Why can't I stop dreaming about that night? _he thought to himself, his mind's voice a hushed whisper. He clenched his eyes shut, fighting back his raw emotions. The emotions he wasn't supposed – and wouldn't allow himself – to have.

…

* * *

><p><strong>End of the prologue! I really hoped everyone liked it. I wrote most of it in my Algebra class and decided I liked the way it sounded, so I finished it and here it is! It seems like the only time I get to write these days are when I'm in that class. I swear, I haven't posted anything in ages. Anyways, I'd love some reviews! I don't know whether it's even worth continuing. Not a lot happened in this chapter, but it was just to introduce the idea and see if anyone liked it. Plus, I thought the first seen was pretty cute. Anyways, ta-ta for now! And please review if you think I should continue. I suppose if I don't I'll just leave it at this. Love you all! (BTW, Amy is pronounced Am—ee like I AM with ee at the end. It's not like AIM-EE).<strong>

**-GooeyGummiBears**


	2. Love in all the Wrong Places

Canada's eyes opened slowly when he heard a light creaking of floorboards just outside his room. At first, his eyes couldn't focus on anything in the pitch black darkness that surrounded him, but soon a faint light became visible through the crack between his door and the wall. He took a deep breath, rubbing some of the remnants of sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand. He figured America was out of bed to get a midnight snack – as he often was. At least, he hoped that was the case as he relished the warm feeling though out his body. A small smile appeared on his lips as he fought the cold of the Great White North with his soft blanket.

Seconds of calm and silence passed before a soft thud fell against his bed room door. Canada, not sure if his mind was simply playing tricks on him, turned to the source of the small noise and waited curiously. His door was opened ever so slowly and a figure shrouded in darkness entered soundlessly.

"Canada?" a sweet, subtle voice whispered, filling the dead quiet room with music.

Said boy propped himself of on his elbow as he called back softly, "America? What is it?"

The door was opened all the way, giving light to the room for only a handful of moments before it was shut again and the darkness returned. Canada stood quiet and still, his sleep addled mind not quite grasping the situation and his eyes growing heavy again. After a few more moments passed, a weight caused the bed to shift slightly to the left and Canada's breath to catch in his throat. In the darkness, the blankets William had wrapped himself so tightly in were tugged away slightly.

"Amy?" Canada asked again, a hint of fear laced in his words.

"Canada…" The name came out as a soft mew and, suddenly, warmth was pressed against the boy's side, causing his cheeks to flush brightly. Then there was that sweet, nerve calming smell of pear body wash that Canada was so used to. He took a deep breath and laid down completely by his brother, not sure how to react to the sudden intrusion.

Long, lithe fingers trailed their way along Canada's stomach and it was all he could to keep from gasping at the touch. He clenched his jaw to keep himself quiet, his hazy mind hoping this wasn't just a dream; that America really was here, in his bed, _touching _him. And before long, the wandering fingers found Canada's hand and laced with his smooth, soft fingers.

"I had a nightmare," America whispered, cuddling closer to his younger brother and burying his face in the other's chest.

Canada said nothing for a moment, instead focusing more on the contact they were sharing. He was speechless, really. Never in his life would he have thought a situation like this would arise. "Would you like to talk about it?" he finally asked, a soothing tone to his gentle voice.

He felt a slight nod against his chest and his cheeks flushed more. Thankfully, nothing could be seen in the darkness.

"Tell me about it," Canada said, wrapping his free arm around his brother's shoulder protectively.

"Well…. There were zombies…. And they killed you…." he whimpered, a tear escaping the pool around his eyes and creating a damp spot on William's favorite light blue sweater. "I don't want you to be a zombie, Canada."

A loving smile grew around the corners of Canada's lips. It sounded like a silly dream, yet he could understand how frightened his older brother must have been. The flush in his cheeks had died down, instead replaced by a peculiar warmth in his chest.

"You don't have to worry, Amy. I'm right here. I'll never be a zombie ok?" he whispered into light blonde hair and placed a small kiss on the top of Alfred's head. "Now go to sleep. It's your first day at work tomorrow."

"But I'm scared, Canada," the older brother pouted, his wide eyes staring up at his brother.

Matthew pilled him close again and hushed him, "If zombies were really out to get you, I'd protect you with my life, you know that."

"Canada…." the blonde whimpered softly as he closed his eyes and greeted sleep with a comforted smile.

…

One of America's eyes cracked open at exactly 7:30 in the morning and he squeezed it shut again in annoyance. He never understood why anyone would want to wake up so early, it's not like there was anything to do. He shifted just a bit – part of his usual routine to wake himself up little by little. But something was off. He couldn't quite place it at first, his mind more asleep than awake, but suddenly realized where the extra heat was coming from. Allowing his eyes to open just a bit, he watched his hand – how it lay gently against his brother's chest, intertwined with his brother's fingers.

Had they slept like this all night? His eyes wandered up to Matthew's face and, for a moment, he just stared. He looked so peaceful in his sleep. It was so different from when he was awake. This Matthew Willams had no worries and no cares, he was happy in the simplest form of the word.

For some reason, this made Alfred smile wholeheartedly. Even as he pulled away and left his sleeping younger brother's room, a small warmth grew in his chest.

Within an hour, America was dressed and as ready for work as he'd ever be. He hopped into the small red convertible he'd saved up for for his whole life and sped down the street, his heart pounding in anticipation. There wasn't a whole lot he knew about his new job, just that he would be working with some of the most famous fashion designers in North America. Though he looked the part with his designer sunglasses and his hipster demeanor, he was new to the scene. He knew he could pull it off. He was a pro at looking like he knew what he was doing when he absolutely no idea. So, in all truth, he wasn't scared. Nervous was more of the word he was looking for.

Yes, nervous was definitely the word he decided as he pulled into the huge parking lot. A tall building made up of all windows loomed over him and he stared up in bewilderment. For a minute, he just watched, feeling like he was in New York City with the way the building stabbed the pale blue, cloud filled sky. It took a minute or two – and the prospect that he might be late – to urge him into leaving his car and entering his new work place.

The inside looked even bigger than it had seemed from the outside. There was a simple layout, much like that of Grand Central Station. Everything sent a thrill of excitement through out his whole body and he found himself at the receptionist's desk with an idiotic grin on his face.

"Can I help you?" a bored looking, Asian man asked, staring at him in an unamused way.

"I'm the new photographer," America replied, casually leaning his elbow against the marble desk top.

The receptionist blinked once then picked up the phone, pressing buttons without breaking eye contact with the blonde. "Yes, Mr. England? The new photographer is here. Yes, ok." He hung up the phone swiftly, his face remaining straight. "He'll be down in a second, please have a seat."

America nodded and looked around, the nervousness that had died down suddenly springing back up as he scanned his surroundings.

"Um," he said as he turned back to the raven haired man. "There are no chairs."

"Ok, then just go away," the man finally broke eye contact and turned his attention to the computer by his side.

There was an awkward silence before America spoke again, not realizing the comment was rude. "So what's your name?"

A sigh came from the man as he replied without looking up, "Japan, but don't bother remembering it. I doubt you'll be here longer than a week."

The blonde pouted slightly, not knowing what his new 'friend' could mean. "I'm – "

"America! It's good to see you!" an unfamiliar voice called, capturing the blonde's attention. He turned quickly and before he knew it, he was faced with a tall, lean man with blue eyes and light blonde hair – but most of all, he had fallen in love at first sight.


End file.
